


To Live Again

by afteriwake



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Developing Friendships, Developing Mycroft Holmes/Mary Morstan, Developing Relationship, F/M, Fake Character Death, Female Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Late Night Conversations, Male-Female Friendship, Mary Keeps A Secret, Mary Lives, Mary Ships It, Molly Keeps A Secret, Mycroft Keeps A Secret, Mycroft ships it, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Mary Morstan, Past Mary Morstan/John Watson, Post Episode AU: s04e01 The Six Thatchers, Shared past
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-10-07 05:08:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17359583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: After the events at the aquarium which leaves most of the world thinking Mary Watson is dead, Mary deals with conflicting feelings and moving on in the wake of knowing her marriage is, for all intents and purposes, over.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dreamin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamin/gifts).



> So ages ago I got a prompt from **Dreamin** that involved Marycroft after Mary's divorce from John. I took the idea (which I'm still planning on answering) but used a different prompt (" _onward_ ") to explore a "Mary lives" AU where Mary and John don't stay together and the rest of series 4 is altered before the reveal at Mycroft's home that Mary is alive and Eurus's involvement is adjusted for "The Final Problem."

She had known, for some time, that John was bored. Bored of the sedate life they led, or maybe bored of her….she didn’t know. But the phone messages from another woman were enough to tell her that even if he hadn’t strayed physically, emotionally he was already gone, or close to it. 

It had been a depressing thought, but one she hadn’t been able to dwell on for long. After the incident in the aquarium, she had known that there was nothing left to truly salvage. He had been heartbroken that she had been shot, but he _hadn’t tried to save her_. A good thing, she mused now as she sipped tea in Mycroft’s study, her body aching from the bullet’s impacts, but still. It was a damning piece of evidence that there wasn’t much more to salvage.

Mycroft studied her for a long moment. “I did as you told and let Molly in on your plan. She is trustworthy, but...”

“I know,” Mary said. “It’s going to be hell for her to be put through pretending I’m dead, just as it had been with Sherlock. And this time, she has to lie _to_ Sherlock.”

“Still, if we are to make sure your daughter is well taken care of--”

“And I can see her,” Mary piped in.

“--then she should have been informed. So I suppose I can’t fault you. But you know Rosie will not be able to go with you when you leave.”

“I know,” Mary said quietly. “But if there’s a threat, still?”

“Ms, Hooper and Rosie will stay here for their protection, as I think John is at a complete loss to parent properly. If he ever had been.”

A sad smile crept on her face. “So. You noticed. He does love Rosie, he just wanted...more.”

“Or different,” Mycroft said in a huff.

“You don’t approve?” Mary asked, tilting her head.

“One of the few secrets we have managed to keep just between us is we have known each other for some time. I knew you when you were Rosamund and you were the CIA’s shining example of their ‘shadow ops’ program.” He picked up his own tea. “Though the lies were important at first, I believe if you had had the chance and John had met you knowing your full background, he never would have married you. As much as he craves adventure and adrenaline, you would have been better than him in every aspect and he would not have let that stand. Though...you might have been a suitable paramour for my brother, had he not been so enamoured with Ms. Hooper for all these years.” He had some of his tea. “John seems to think he’s attracted to Ms. Irene Adler, which shows how considerably unobservant he is.”

Mary snorted a slight laugh. “I suppose she would have been perfect for my husband?”

“You never encountered her?” Mycroft asked, surprised.

“Never had the pleasure.” She had some more of her tea. “And I’m sure it would have been a pleasure.”

“Yes, well...” He trailed off. “We’ll keep you well hidden on the property, and I will keep an eye on Sherlock to make sure he doesn’t do anything foolish, as we know he’s prone to. Ms. Hooper will be here tomorrow for you to spend time with Rosamund. Eleven o’clock is what she said, I believe.”

“Good. I need to take a nice long soak and then curl up and get warm. I feel...cold.”

“The loss of adrenaline, perhaps.” He had more of his tea. “I’ll make sure that the pyjamas in your room are flannel to help the process.”

“Thank you, Mycroft.” Mary finished her tea and then stood, moving closer to Mycroft before leaning over and kissing his cheek. “For doing this, for letting me stay here for a time...I appreciate it.”

Mycroft flushed slightly and looked down at his cup of tea. “I owe you as much for what you have done for me, in the past.”

“No, you don’t. You don’t owe me this much.” She patted his cheek and then turned and walked away, heading towards the stairs to go to her room. She paused at the top landing and took a deep breath. This was going to be, quite honestly, the hardest thing she had ever done. But if she could get through it, she could have her life back...or at least, whatever remained of it.


	2. Chapter 2

She had not gotten much sleep that evening, the events in the earlier part of the day replaying in her mind and intermingling with thoughts of her past she thought she had kept long buried. In the end, she gave up trying to sleep at all, going to Mycroft’s cavernous kitchen to have a cuppa and some food.

Sherlock had told her once that Mycroft kept an empty refrigerator as a reminder of his endless diets, but as she opened the door and peered in she realized it was full of things she might enjoy. Mycroft was truly more thoughtful than anyone ever gave him credit for, she realized. She would have to ask Molly to do something nice for him from time to time after she left.

The kettle was almost done when she heard a noise behind her. Her hackles went up until she saw it was Mycroft, and then she relaxed. “I almost went for a knife.”

“My apologies,” he said. He was wearing what appeared to be silk pyjamas with a dressing gown over it, and she felt almost underdressed in the flannel pyjamas she was in. But she had the feeling of the two of them, she was probably more comfortable. “Unable to sleep?”

She nodded. “Too many thoughts, no outlet.”

“I could show you were my personal gym equipment is, if that would help. And perhaps bring in some items specifically for you?”

“Mycroft, you’re already doing so much,” she said. “Just showing me where your things are is fine.”

“It feels like it is not enough,” he said, sounding as though this was an admission he did not want to make. “You saved my life and I feel like sending you off to an uncertain future is not close to repayment.”

“Well, as long as I have enemies like Vivian, it’s not safe for me to be in England, but we both know I can’t leave yet. It’s not safe enough for that, either.” The kettle finished and she started to set up the tea. “Would you like a cuppa?”

“Yes,” Mycroft said with a nod. He went to the small table in the kitchen and sat down on one side, turning on the light by the table while she went about preparing the tea. Once she took the service to the table she went back to the refrigerator and got the cheesecake she had seen there and brought that to the table. “My diet...” he protested.

“Oh, sod your diet for a night,” she said. “It’s strawberry swirl. It’s worth it.”

“I suppose,” he said. She went for a knife and expertly cut them each a slice, making sure Mycroft’s was the smaller of the two in consideration for his diet, and then went for two small plates to transfer them off the cake plate so they could eat. Then she realized they didn’t have forks and went to get those before finally sitting down. “I have everything spaced all over, don’t I?”

“Well, it’s more I'm not used to your kitchen. It’s unfamiliar and it will take time to get used to it,” she said, spearing a bite of her cheesecake onto her fork. “Though probably by the time I do it will be time to ship me off somewhere safer.”

“You could stay, you know,” he said. “You can’t come back to life yet, but there are ways you can stay in London.”

“I appreciate the thought, but no,” Mary said. “If John and Rosie are going to be _truly_ safe, I need to leave until my past is all sorted and I can be safe once and for all. We had thought Magnussen was the biggest threat and when Sherlock...” She trailed off, but Mycroft nodded, encouraging her to continue. “We thought Magnussen was the biggest threat but with his death more came out of the woodwork. One day, Rosie will know the truth and she’ll understand, I hope, but...it will take time.”

“I take it John’s feelings are not much of an issue?” he asked before taking a bite of his own cheesecake.

“Our entire relationship was built on lies. And this is just one more to add to the pile.” She set her fork down and picked up her tea. “I gave him the drive, with all of the information. He never viewed any of it. Tossed it in the fire. That was his choice, but I feel he’s kept my past hanging over us as some sort of...” She let go of one side of the cup and waved her hand. “Albatross, I suppose.”

“That was foolish of him. Much of this could have been prevented if he had viewed the information,” Mycroft said.

“I know,” she said softly before sighing. “I wish it could all be different but this will just come off as one more betrayal and to be honest, I just don’t want to go through it. I’ll do whatever I can to ensure John is able to move on to someone else if I’m gone for long enough, and just let our marriage taper out the way it would have if I had survived.”

“Will you be happy with that?” he asked.

“I suppose I’ll have to be,” she said before sipping her tea. When Mycroft spoke again he changed the topic completely, something she was grateful for, and the conversation continued on, but she knew Mycroft’s question would hang over her head and reside in her thoughts for some time.


	3. Chapter 3

She was finally able to get some sleep after her late night conversation with Mycroft, and thankfully he had shown her where his exercise equipment was so that she could let loose some energy. She got on the treadmill and began to jog at a fast pace. When she had gone out on runs before all this, she’d been able to put her mind at ease.

Today, though, that wasn’t quite the case.

She knew this was going to devastate Sherlock. And maybe John, she wasn’t sure; if he’d come clean with her perhaps they could have mended things, but she didn’t know if it would have made a difference in the end. But Sherlock...Sherlock loved her almost as a sister, one he preferred vastly to Mycroft, and she was worried about him. But if anyone was going to keep John together it would be him. She didn’t want to put that stress on him, but for her daughter’s well-being, she had to.

And Molly. Molly deserved so much better than to have to keep her secret, but she had no idea how Sherlock was going to keep John together, and that was going to leave Molly as the one to be the primary caregiver for Rosie. She was already starting that process now, as John hadn’t come to pick her Rosie up from Molly’s care. She just hoped Molly could really get here to Mycroft’s home without being seen by anyone.

Eventually, she forced herself to think of other things, begin to make plans on what to do before she left and after she went wherever it was that she was going to go. Mycroft would have to choose for her and put whatever resources he could to hide her. She was sure he could do a better job than she could, considering what had happened this time.

She got off the treadmill and leaned over, bracing her hands on her thighs to catch her breath. What she wouldn’t give for a punching bag. This would all be so much simpler if John had tried to save her. Then, as much as it could have been a problem in the future, he would know the truth. Sherlock would maybe know the truth, maybe not, but there could have been other options. And yet now? Now there wasn’t. Now she had to disappear as Mycroft worked his way through her files, her lies, and made slow work of her enemies.

Though the fact he would do that for her spoke volumes.

She thought back to the incident he had referred to the night before, of her saving him. It had been at a party, where he had gone off with the person she knew was to be assassinated that evening. Mycroft was a green government employee; he hadn’t known the man was a terrorist in good clothing, but she had feigned drunkenness, gone and asked him for a dance, and pulled him away.

Had Mycroft take her to his home.

 _Yet another thing John will never know about my past_ , she thought to herself. She had never loved Mycroft; it was just a way to protect someone who could be an asset. But when she got out, and she found out his brother had committed suicide and John was alone, she had felt the least she could do was protect John from whoever might come out of the woodwork. She just hadn’t counted on falling in love with John.

And that had been her downfall, it seemed.

Mycroft had known the truth from early on and paid her a visit; it had just taken him time to realize that she was, in fact, the woman he’d had a one-off fling with all those years ago. That was when she told him the truth about that evening, though she was sure he had sussed it out on his own not long after it happened. But having it out in the open, that had made her feel better.

Mycroft had agreed it was best that they pretend they had not had intimate relations, and she was thankful for that. They had just, in the end, decided not to mention having any past knowledge of each other, but she had filled him in on things with John, which she assumed later had been passed on to Sherlock. Though perhaps not, considering the reaction he had to the various beating John had inflicted on him upon his return. He hadn’t expected violence. And she hadn’t, either, but she’d never let it leave her mind.

And now? Well, now they were going their separate ways, perhaps never to see each other again, and certainly not as husband and wife. At least there was a death certificate on file and John wouldn’t have to wait seven years to be able to move on. She had insisted on that.

But when he did, and Rosie with him, what would that mean for her if she was able to return?

That was a thought she was not ready to think about without something stronger than 100 proof vodka, and since she was only going to have coffee this morning, she’d push it back to think on later. For now? Hopefully, one of her final good-byes with her daughter.


End file.
